Esteban stood at the front of the room, staring at the page. Then he lifted his head and looked at us. We cheered again, even louder this time. I don't know if any of us really understood his dad's poem. But for a long time after he'd finished reading, I thought about that army of ants, how they were coming together. Like us.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
3563 | 2024-02-09 09:36:52 | 78.06 | 96% |
586 | 2022-01-25 10:31:30 | 75.13 | 97% |